


At the End

by evilwriter37



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Again, End of the World, First Kiss, M/M, Season 11, be a man Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: The world's ending so Dean might as well say it.





	

"So, Cas, are you gonna talk to him?" Dean asked while fingering the beer bottle on the counter, his third one. He was halfway through the case, but he wasn't really feeling much in ways of drunkenness.

Cas didn't say anything in reply, just grumpily sat down at the kitchen table. He wasn't looking at him either.

"I mean, you spent a long time looking for him." Dean took a swig from the bottle, eyebrows raised.

"And he only shows up when the whole universe is ending," Cas said lowly, voice not hiding his upset. "And now he's dying. There's nothing I have to say to him, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter now."

Dean grabbed his bottle and went over to the table, sitting across from the angel. He wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. He didn't even know how to comfort himself. The goddamn sun was going out and they were all inevitably going to die. It was bleak and depressing and Dean sure as hell didn't have enough alcohol.

"But, Cas he's, uh, your father." Dean felt strange saying it. Sure he had been hanging around with the capital G but it was still insane to think about. 

"Whom I've never met." Cas finally lifted his eyes towards his. They were terribly sad, the blue no longer shining. As Dean watched, a single tear slipped from one eye and trailed down his cheek. "He's dying, Dean. God is..." He paused, took a breath. "God is dying." His voice was choked.

_Son of a bitch. How do I help a crying angel?_

The one tear was followed by more, and Cas closed his eyes and turned his head away from him. It set an ache in Dean's chest. Never, not once, had he seen Castiel cry. He hadn’t even known he was capable of it. 

"Cas..." He paused, let his name hang in the air. He didn't know what to say. He looked down at his beer, then lifted it and took a long drink from it. 

_Dammit. The world is ending and Cas is crying._

Dean felt utterly hopeless and small, and so he welcomed the burn in his throat. He wanted to drink himself unconscious, so that he wouldn't be aware when the world died and when he did too. He just wanted to drink to the end. With each swallow, it felt like he was drinking his own despair.

 _Stupid, emotionally stunted jerk I am,_ Dean couldn't help thinking. He wasn't comforting his friend or anybody else. He didn't know how. His friend was crying and he was just sitting there drinking. 

Beginning to feel the guilt from that, Dean downed the rest of the beer quickly, set the bottle down rather loudly on the table. He didn't go to get another one. He was going to man up and talk.

 _What do I even say in a time like this? What would Sam say? No, that's stupid. I'm_ not _Sam._

His body hurt. His head hurt. He was filled with too many emotions to sort through. What the hell was he supposed to say?

"Cas."

The angel looked at him, cheeks wet, silent tears still coming in a slow, but steady stream. 

"Yes, Dean?" His voice was weak, and Dean hated the sound of it. It wasn't right.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here," Dean finally forced out. "I'd rather be at the end of the world with you than without you."

A small smile broke through Cas' solemn expression. "I'm glad I'm here with you as well, Dean."

Dean felt some of his distress lighten a little. It felt good to know that Cas returned the feeling, that he wanted to be with him at the end of it all.

"You know, Cas, you've been the best friend I've ever had," Dean told him. He was now trying to work up his courage to say something else. That seemed to serve as a good opening line.

Cas' smile deepened, though his eyes somehow managed to look somber at the same time.

 _Okay, Dean, just say it. Be a man. The world's ending anyway._ He took a deep breath in, breathed out a little. Cas was looking at him in such an endearing way, patient and open.

"Cas, I uh... I..." Dean looked down, tried smiling but it was out of nerves.

_Goddammit! Get yourself together and stop acting like a twelve year old girl!_

"What is it, Dean?" Cas tilted his head in that way he did, squinted a little.

"I..." Dean paused and cleared his throat, found the strength to look at him. There was a heat in his face. "I, um, like you, Cas. A lot."

 _Suave as always, Dean,_ he commented sarcastically to himself. _Good freaking job._

Cas still looked confused. "I already knew that, Dean. And I'm sure you know that I like you very much as well."

"It's not... I, uh-we-"

Though he was having trouble speaking, Dean suddenly felt a burst of courage.

_Screw it._

He found himself quickly leaning over the table, taking Cas' face in both his hands. He looked into his ridiculously blue eyes for a moment, hoping Cas could see what he couldn't say. The angel looked surprised at Dean's sudden movement, but there was a hint of understanding on his face. Instead of scaring him and making him back away and mumble like he would have a couple of years ago, gazing into Cas' eyes gave him the last bit of strength he needed. 

He kissed him. 

It wasn't a gentle touch of lips, but a crashing together that spoke of longing and sadness and _love._ And, to Dean's great relief, Castiel kissed him back. His mouth was soft and firm at the same time. His stubble scratched at his cheeks. He smelled like cinnamon and watermelon, two scents that oddly went well together.

There was a popping sound followed by shattering glass raining down from the ceiling, and then they were plunged into darkness. In all his emotion, Cas had blown out the lights in the kitchen. 

Dean pulled back a little, stunned at what he had just finally done and how fantastic it had been. Castiel met his gaze, smiled wide at him with his teeth. 

Their moment was broken by running footsteps into the kitchen.

"Guys, what the hell is going on? What's wrong?" Sam asked from the doorway, obviously startled. Dean didn't pull his eyes away from Cas' though. He felt giddy and relieved and... in love. It was ridiculous and amazing.

Cas didn't move his gaze from Dean's either. He just said in an exalted, almost relieved manner: "Dean loves me."

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering, Misha Collins apparently smells like a mix of cinnamon and watermelon, so I had to use that.


End file.
